


Inner Strength

by DocMui



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Superman: The Animated Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 12:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7314754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocMui/pseuds/DocMui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark Kent must face his greatest challenge:  To repair the rift between Captain Marvel and the Justice League.  What is his greatest power?  He knows what the Right Thing is.  Takes place sometime after the JLU episode "Clash."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inner Strength

            Clark Kent was feeling a bit distracted as he made his way through the halls of the Daily Planet.  It wasn't from any of the input that his super senses were giving him.  It wasn't from the normal hustle and bustle that went with making a daily newspaper.  Rather, it was a nagging feeling that was tugging at the edges of his conscious mind.

            "Hey, Smallville!" Lois greeted him.  "Are you okay?"  She followed that up by waving her hand in front of his face.  "You seem really out of it today."

            "I just have some things on my mind, that's all," he muttered.

            Lois's violet eyes turned thoughtful.  "Trouble at the club?" she whispered.

            This actually got him to smile slightly.  He wondered why he hadn't told her about The Secret long ago.  Maybe it was just that the game had worn thin.  Both of them had been getting tired of the same chase.

            After the initial shock, there was a sense of comfort that he'd never expected to experience with Lois.  He hadn't had anything like that since Lana.  It was the feeling that she was watching out for him.  It was something unexpected, since everybody expected him to be watching out for, well, everyone.

            "A few things left a bad taste in my mouth," he admitted.  "I'll settle them, don't worry."

            "You know, moping around doesn't do you any good.  I'll let you take me to lunch today, somewhere with a great view." she declared.

            "Really?"  He raised an eyebrow and pretended not to notice the sly looks on their co-workers' faces.  The office grapevine was utterly shocked to find out that Lois and Clark were officially Something (tm).  To consider them an actual couple would have rocked their perceptions.

            She frowned as her cell phone rang.  Checking the display, she sighed and patted him on the shoulder.  "I have to check this lead out.  I'll see you back here around 11:30, okay?"

            "Okay," he replied, but she was already heading out the door.  He pretended not to notice the general change in the atmosphere as his co-workers looked on.  Two years ago, they had been certain that Hell would have frozen over before Lois would warm up to him.  Now, they just clicked together, although there weren't any public displays of affection.

            Smiling to himself, he headed to the outer doors--

            --and found himself inside a large, cavernous passage.  Craggy formations surrounded him, and the light was provided by flickering braziers.  On his left were enormous statues, each one proclaiming one of the Seven Deadly Sins.

            "What?" was all he had time to say before he noticed the throne ahead of him.  Seated in it was an old man, his bald pate a striking contrast to his long white hair and beard.  His features were gaunt, and yet Clark could feel power in the air.

            "I bid you welcome, Clark Kent, Kal-El...Superman," the old man said, his voice creaking slightly, but still quite strong.  "I...am Shazam."

            There was a rumble of thunder as the old man said the name.  Clark didn't quite suppress a wince as he remembered the last time he'd heard the name.  That time, he'd been on the receiving end of some very painful magical lightning.

            Okay, Clark thought to himself, he knows who I am and he's connected to Captain Marvel.  He just used magic to bring me...wherever `here' is, and he hasn't done anything to me yet.

            "Where am I?"  Clark asked.

            "I have transported you to my home, the Rock of Eternity."  The old man held up one wizened hand.  "I mean you no harm.  I merely wish to speak to you of my Captain."

            "Marvel," Clark said quietly, with more than a twinge of guilt.

            Shazam nodded.  "I have given my Captain great powers to combat evil.  Within him is the wisdom of Solomon, the strength of Hercules, the stamina of Atlas, the power of Zeus, the invulnerability of Achilles, and the speed of Mercury.  That alone is not enough, as I learned to my regret.  His greatest strength is his heart, that of a pure-hearted young boy."

            Clark remembered the look of betrayal in Marvel's eyes as he quit the Justice League.  There was that pleading look as he tried to stop the destruction of Lexor City.

            _`You're not heroes anymore,' Marvel had said._

            "What do you want me to do?"  Clark asked.

            Shazam merely inclined his head slightly.  "Every boy must have heroes," he stated.  "They are the guideposts by which we measure morality.  Much as your own father has informed you of right and wrong, I now ask that you do the right thing."

            "How will I know what the right thing is?"

            The old wizard smiled.  "You will know...given time," he added with a faint nod.

            "Wait--" was all Clark had time to say before he found himself back at the Daily Planet.  He looked rather odd reaching out with one hand through an open doorway.

            His co-workers ignored him for the most part.  They'd learned to live with many of his quirks.

            "The right thing..." he muttered to himself.  In the back of his mind, he already knew what he should do.  Part of him would rather face an army of Kryptonite-laced Doomsdays.

            He needed a second opinion. 

* * *

 

            "I don't think it's a good idea," Batman said bluntly.  "Last time, Lexor City got demolished because of a misunderstanding."

            They were sitting at the main conference table at the Watchtower.  Wonder Woman was also there, listening intently.

            Superman sighed.  “Pa once told me that a man’s never so strong as when he admits his faults.”

            Wonder Woman gently put a hand on his shoulder.  “I know that you want to make things right, Clark.  That’s admirable, but this boy has just seen his moral guidepost literally turn against him.”

            Batman grunted.  “Batson is an orphan.  He can’t look up to his parents anymore, so he chose us as his heroes.”  He glared directly into Superman’s eyes.  “That’s what made it hurt all the more when you pounded him.”

            Wonder Woman sighed.  “What Bruce is trying to say is this:  Tread carefully.  A child’s heart can be strong or brittle, depending on what you say.”

            Superman thought this over for a moment.  Then he rose out of his chair and headed towards the exit.

            “Diana, Bruce…thanks,” he said before he left the room.

            Wonder Woman shook her head.  “You were pretty harsh on him,” she pointed out.

            “Someone has to play devil’s advocate,” he replied.  “I’ll be keeping an eye on Fawcett City’s seismic readings, just in case.”  He got up and headed towards the exit himself.

            “I know you’re joking about that,” she said to his back.

            Batman paused.  “Am I?” he asked without even turning around.

            The man always has to have the last word, Diana thought to herself.  If he weren’t right so many times, he’d be insufferable.

* * *

 

            Mrs. Beck knew that something was wrong with Billy Batson.  He wasn’t the brightest or most athletic kid in her class, but he was honest and forthright.  Those qualities in themselves made him stand out.  He was quite a contrast to his neighbor, Maximillian Burnham.  Whereas Billy would often go out of his way to help others, Max seemed to revel in his isolation. 

            Billy had lately been moody, almost sullen.  It was about then that Max finally started opening up to Billy.  By “opening up,” she meant that he was actively grousing about his home life and how unfair life was in general.  She hoped that Billy would have had enough sense to ignore most of Max’s ramblings.  Billy had it far worse than Max, especially since the former lived alone.  There was very little she could do as a teacher, though.

            Fortunately, today would be different.  She’d been quite amazed that someone from the Daily Planet had offered to talk to her class.  She’d been more amazed when she found out that none other than Clark Kent had volunteered.  If nothing else, it would have taken their minds off the math test she’d scheduled for tomorrow.

            “Class, we have a special guest today,” she announced.  “Mr. Clark Kent has come all the way from Metropolis to answer any questions that you may have about the media.”

            Max noticed that Billy slid back in his seat.  He obviously did not want to be involved in this presentation.

            “Go figure, huh?” Max whispered to Billy.  “They just had to get Superman’s Spokesman to present to us.”

            “Yeah,” Billy agreed, his voice flat and unenthusiastic.

            Clark straightened out his tie before entering.  He leaned against the podium and looked alert, ready to answer any questions.

            The first few were conventional enough.  He’d been asked about how long he was a reporter, why he chose the field, and what the daily routine was like.  He’d been subtly hoping that Billy would speak up.  His neighbor kept nudging Billy with his feet, obviously trying to egg him on.

            “Excuse me,” he said to Max, “If your friend wants to say something, you don’t have to keep kicking him.”

            “Well, he’s just been dying to tell someone how he feels about Superman,” Max said.  “Go on, Billy, tell him!”

            “Max…” Billy said awkwardly.  He was not happy at this turn of events.

            “Come on, why don’t you tell Superman’s Spokesman what you told me?”

            Clark adjusted his glasses.  "If you don't want to say anything, that's fine," he reassured Billy.  "If it's something that you want to say after class, that's also fine."

            Billy clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.  "What happens when you're wrong?"

            Ah, Clark thought to himself.  That was what he needed to hear.  He straightened up slightly.

            "What you have to understand is that everyone working at a news desk is responsible for giving the facts as we have them, at the time.  We are not supposed to let our own personal bias interfere with what we report.  We are not supposed to give our opinions as the only fact.  We are supposed to let you decide for yourselves.

            "Unfortunately, we're also only human.  Sometimes we let our feelings or our personal history get in the way of reporting.  Sometimes we can't be unbiased.  Sometimes we leap to conclusions," he admitted.  "When that happens, we have betrayed the trust of everyone who depends on us for fair and unbiased information."

            "So what do you do?"  Billy asked.

            Clark sighed.  "All we can do is issue a retraction.  I guess you could call it an apology.  We admit when we're wrong, tell what really happened, and hope that people can forgive us for the mistake."

            "So that's it?"  Max asked, and not particularly politely.  "You screw up because you couldn't get the facts straight and then you hope for forgiveness?"

            "Owning up to a mistake is a lot better than just letting it fester," Clark replied.  "The truth comes out, one way or another.  A good reporter knows this.  The reporters that only go for what's sensational instead of what's true don't understand this."  He shook his head.  “I’ve never been a believer in `what bleeds, leads.’”

            “So, if, say for example,” Max continued, apparently not caring about the sour looks from his classmates, “Superman flies here to apologize to Captain Marvel.  Do you think that Cap should just take it with a smile?”

            Billy spoke up, clearly annoyed that Max was monopolizing the time.  “Max, I think that how Cap reacts is up to him.  The last time I checked, you weren’t flying around the city fighting crime.”

            “I’m just saying—“ Max began, but he was cut off.

            “I know what you’re trying to say.  Guess what?  Luthor turned out to be the bad guy after all.  So yeah, Superman was a jerk, but he had a good reason to be.  And like an idiot, Cap wanted to give Luthor a chance.”

            “Everyone deserves a chance,” Clark said mildly.  “Whether or not they take it is up to them.”

            “Wow,” Max said snidely, “what color is the sky in your world?”

            “Max,” Mrs. Beck said sharply, “you just earned yourself a detention.”

            The boy actually seemed shocked.  “What?  I was just being honest.”

            “No, you were being rude.  Now, I want you to apologize to Mr. Kent.”

            Max fidgeted in his seat.  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Kent,” he said sarcastically.  This elicited a sigh from Mrs. Beck.

            “That just earned you a Saturday detention.”  She checked the clock.  “Well, class, I hate to end on this note, but it’s time to go.  Remember that you have a math test tomorrow!”  Her last sentence was almost drowned out by the final bell.

            Most of the class had gone, but Billy was a bit slow to leave.  Max spared him and Mrs. Beck an angry glance before he left.

            “I’m sorry that you had to take that from Max,” Mrs. Beck apologized.  “Usually, he’s in his own little world.  I can’t imagine why he’d get so nasty.”  That was her polite way of saying that he was fairly self-absorbed.

            “I’ve taken far worse,” Clark reassured her.  He noted that Billy wasn’t heading to the door.  “Is there something I can help you with?”

            “Can we talk about something…outside the school?” Billy asked hesitantly.

            Clark nodded.  He turned and thanked Mrs. Beck for allowing him in her class.  After that, he and Billy left together.

            What a nice man, she thought to herself.  He was much better company than young Max.  She wished that he and Billy could hang out sometime.

 

            “You know Superman pretty well, right?” Billy asked.

            “Well, he doesn’t stick around too long, but yes…I know him fairly well.”

            “If I had a message from a…`friend,’ could you send that message to Superman?  I don’t know if my friend could talk to him face to face, you know.”

            Clark looked thoughtful.  “Well, if your friend wants privacy, he could always meet me at the foot of that big hill.  I saw it on the way here.”

            “How about the top of the hill?”  Billy suggested.  “Nobody goes up there this late in the afternoon.  It might be a walk, though,” he warned Clark.

            “I’ll manage,” Clark replied.  “How about I meet your friend in, say, an hour?  Will that be enough time?”

            Billy nodded.  “Thanks, Mr. Kent.”

            “You’re welcome, Billy.”

            As soon as the boy was out of earshot, Clark took out his cell phone.  Punching in a number from memory, he waited patiently for the other party to answer.

            “Wayne,” came the terse reply.

            “Hi, Bruce,” Clark replied.  “Can I borrow Alfred for a little bit?”

* * *

 

             Marvel made a lazy patrol before heading to Lookout Hill.  Truthfully, he was looking for an excuse, any excuse, to be slightly late.  Regrettably, Fawcett City was utterly bereft of crime for the moment. 

            The impression that he got from Clark Kent was that he was an okay guy, if a bit quiet.  He hoped that Clark would hear him out.

            He found the reporter waiting patiently on the hill, on time.  Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to be the least bit out of breath.  Even for trained athletes, the hill was quite a walk.

            “You must be in pretty good shape,” Marvel commented as he landed.

            “I have my little ways,” Clark replied with a faint smile.  Then he directed his gaze to the helicopter that hovered nearby.

            “You have a helicopter?” Marvel asked, clearly surprised.

            Clark shook his head.  “It’s not mine, it’s a friend’s.”

            “He must be a really good friend,” Marvel commented.

            “Most days, yes,” Clark replied with a shrug.  Then he took out a notepad and pen from his jacket.  “So, I’m guessing that you want me to interview you?”

            Marvel chuckled.  “It’s something like that.”

            In retrospect, Marvel thought to himself, Clark was very diplomatic with his questions.  He had a way of getting to the truth without getting in someone’s face.  Marvel found himself liking the guy.  He had the vibe of being an ordinary, easy-going guy.

            “The next question is going to be a hard one,” Clark warned him.  “You don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

            “Mr. Kent, I’ve faced mad scientists, giant robots and a mind-reading worm.  I don’t think that a question is going be worse than any of those.”

            Clark hesitated.  “Who do you think was really responsible for Lexor City?”

            Marvel froze.  Then he nervously rubbed the back of his neck while he fidgeted. 

            “I did warn you,” Clark reminded him gently.

            “Yeah, you did,” Marvel agreed.  With a sigh, he went through the whole scene in his head.  The wisdom of Solomon stripped away some of the pain associated with the debacle.  It provided him with a more objective viewpoint, one that he had lacked at the time.

            “Look, Mr. Kent.  I’ll tell you straight:  Part of me wants to say that it was all Superman’s fault for being a total jerk and not listening to me.  I mean, how would you feel if some guy you admired was ignoring you like some…kid?  And then there was the fight, and…yeah, it’s tempting to put it all on his shoulders.”

            “What does the rest of you say?”  Clark asked.

            Marvel sighed.  “The rest of me says that it was a setup from the start.  I mean, who rigs a generator with a digital countdown?  And, of course, it had to be a Kryptonite generator with lead lining.”

            “And Superman and Luthor have had a very long history,” Clark added.

            “Yeah,” Marvel said.  “Look, I’m not going to apologize for what I did.  I was just trying to keep Superman from wrecking the place, you know?  When I think about it, I think that we both got played by Lex Luthor.”

            “He’s very good at that,” Clark agreed.  “How do you think he managed to stay in business for so long?”

            Marvel shook his head.  “I really thought that there was hope for the guy.  I thought that he’d actually turned a corner.  I mean, Superman himself got him pardoned and everything, right?  He must have seen something good in Luthor.”

            Clark did not wince at the comment.  When he ordered Luthor’s release, it was a desperate measure—a choice between a bad or worse option.  He’d been on edge ever since.  Luthor had been very good at exploiting that.

            Clark sat down and stretched.  “We’ve been talking for a while.  Mind if I take a breather for a few minutes?”

            Marvel chuckled.  “Sure.  Sometimes I forget that not everyone has the stamina of Atlas.”

            Clark took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.  With a heavy sigh, he combed his fingers through his hair.

            “It’s been a long day,” he commented.  “With any luck, I’ll make it back in time for dinner with Lois.”

            “Lois…Lane?”  Marvel asked, clearly amazed.  “You two are a couple?”

            Clark looked directly at Marvel.  “We don’t exactly like to make that…public.”

            It took Marvel a moment to realize what just happened.  He gaped at the sight.  Even the body language had changed ever so slightly.  Clark had been stooping ever so slightly, but now he sat straight up. 

            “Holy Moley,” Marvel whispered.  “You’re…you’re…”

            “Mm hm,” Clark confirmed.  “I thought that this was a better way to talk to you.  I’m not here for a fight.”

            “So what are you here for?” Marvel asked warily.

            Clark got up, replaced his glasses, and combed back his hair.  The slight stoop reappeared.

            “I came to apologize,” Clark said quietly.  “What happened at Lexor City was wrong, and it was my fault for overreacting—“

            “—and ignoring me—“  Marvel interrupted.

            “—and ignoring you,” Clark acknowledged.  “I’m not going to make any excuses.  You’ve already figured out the important parts.”

            “So, you expect me to accept your apology and come back to the League?” There was a bit of an edge in Marvel’s voice.

            “I didn’t come here for the League.  I came here to try to make things right between us.”

            Marvel turned away from Clark.  “What you did really hurt, you know,” he pointed out.  “I’m not talking about the punches.  I mean, I was being beaten up by my idol.  Can you imagine how something like that feels?”

            “I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Clark said.  “I’m sorry, Billy.”

            Marvel stiffened.  “The wizard sent you, didn’t he?”

            Clark shrugged.  “He just asked me to do the right thing.”

            Marvel turned to face Clark, a sheepish ghost of a smile on his face.  “Of course he would,” he said.  “That’s just what he’d do.”  He sighed deeply and held out his hand.  “Apology accepted, Mr. Kent.”

            Clark gratefully shook it.  Though he was still stooping as part of the disguise, it was clearly evident that a weight had been lifted.

            “I can’t come back to the League,” Marvel warned him.  “I said a lot of things at the end, and well…you actually came and apologized.  That took a lot of guts.”  He took a deep sigh.  “I guess I’m just not worthy to be in the League.”

            Clark tilted his head slightly.  “Did you ever think that you might have that backwards?”

            Marvel looked confused.  “How so?”

            Clark shrugged.  “Maybe someday, we’ll be worthy to have you.”

            Marvel cleared his throat and turned away.  He was reminded of the helicopter that had been circling the hill.  “Who’s in there, anyway?” he asked.  “I know that you don’t need it.”

            “Lois and a friend,” Clark replied.  “He’s giving her an aerial tour of the city before we head out to dinner.”

            “It must be nice to have friends like that,” Marvel commented.

            “We look out for one another.  Speaking of which, I think you should know that Lexor City was full of security cameras,” Clark said.  “Luthor wanted a record of what happened.  He got just about every moment of the fight.”

            “`Just about’?” Marvel asked.  “What part is missing?”

            “He doesn’t have the part where you get hit by the lightning.  Batman managed to scrub that footage out.”

            “Oh,” Marvel said quietly.  That would have been very inconvenient if someone had found him, as Billy, in the wrong place.  “Um, thanks,” he said awkwardly.

            “You’re welcome,” Clark replied.  He was about to say more, but his cell phone cut him off.  He checked the caller ID and smiled.

            “Is it Lois?” Marvel asked.  He was actually smiling a bit.

            “Bingo.  Did the wisdom of Solomon tell you that?” Clark joked.

            Marvel shook his head.  “I don’t need that all the time, you know.”

            Clark chuckled as he answered the phone.  “How’s the view from up there?”

            “The view’s great, but a little lonely,” Lois replied.  “Maybe you could fix that?”  There was a sly tone in her voice.

            “Sure, I’m done here.  If you could have Alfred land nearby that’d be great.”

            “See you soon, Smallville,” she said as tenderly as the noise allowed.

            Clark smiled with no small amount of satisfaction as he pocketed the phone.  He then noticed that Marvel looked rather amused.

            “I’m surprised that you’re not going to meet her halfway,” he joked.

            Clark adjusted his glasses.  “I do like to keep it quiet sometimes.”  He dug into his pocket and gave the man in red a business card.  “Look, if you need anything, just call me, okay?  It doesn’t have to be about business.”

            Marvel took the card with a smile.  “Thanks.”

            He watched with a small amount of envy as the helicopter landed.  Clark gave Lois a quick hug as he boarded, then waved as they left.  Marvel stood on the hill for a moment as he regarded the business card.  Flipping it over, he saw an address in Kansas, as well as the word “Thanksgiving”.

            Marvel was still smiling as he flew off.  

* * *

 

            Jonathan Kent knew the Thanksgiving routine well.  His job entailed staying out of Martha’s way and greeting guests.  At last count, they were one person short.

            “Are you sure that he’ll stop by?” he asked Clark. 

            “I hope so, Pa,” Clark replied earnestly.  “This isn’t the time of year to be alone.”

            The older man nodded.  “I’m proud of you, son,” he said.

            “For what?”  Clark looked a bit confused.

            “For doing the right thing, as always,” Jonathan answered.  “It’s not always easy.  It takes a strong person here,” he gently thumped his chest, “to get it done.”

            Clark gently put his hand on his father’s shoulder.  “I had a good role model, Pa.”

            A flash of lightning from the clear November sky interrupted the moment.  Clark said nothing, but he smiled as he walked to the mailbox.

            Billy was waiting for him, wearing heavy clothes and a backpack over one shoulder.  He waved nervously as Clark swung open the gate.

            “Hi, Billy,” he greeted the boy.  “Come on inside.”

            “Thanks,” Billy said, his breath a frosty plume.  “You’re my hero.”

            “I try my best,” Clark replied earnestly.  He accepted the backpack and they walked towards the sounds of family.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> To say that I was not happy with how "Clash" ended--well, that's a bit of an understatement. Superman was portrayed as a jaded, grumpy jerk, contrasting Captain Marvel's innocence. This was a man who said in a later episode that he believed in second chances and redemption. To have these two characters perpetuate a rift orchestrated by Lex Luthor--well, that just didn't sit right with me.
> 
> I decided to have Clark put his money where his mouth was. Truthfully, this was a job for Clark Kent. I only hope that this story wasn't as heavy as what some professionals pass off as "character-driven."
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the story! Feel free to leave a comment or drop me a line!
> 
> \--Pearson "Doc" Mui


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